A White Sky
by TokugawaSmile
Summary: In trying to take their relationship further, Grimmjow discovers his cute, scowling orange haired girlfriend is not all that she seems. He's not too sure that's a bad thing. GrimmIchi, transgender issues, yaoi, angst.
1. i

Don't own Bleach, or Ichigo, or Grimmjow… wish I did, oh god.

Warning! This fic deals with transgender issues, yaoi, crossdressing, and basically everything a closed minded person should be afraid of. I've been interested in writing a fic like this for a while, especially after taking a psychology class discussing gender reassignment issues. OH and oocness. Suck it.

This'll prolly end up a threeshot, because I have an extremely short attention span. No lie.

_In trying to take their relationship further, Grimmjow discovers his cute, orange haired girlfriend is really a "he". And he's not too sure that's a bad thing._

0

A White Sky

0

Grimmjow moans into a soft neck, enjoying the breathy sigh released when he swipes his long tongue down the pale column of supple flesh. His hands are everywhere on the slender body beneath him, pressing and molding. Her eyes are glued to his, staring into his soul and _fuck_ he wants her. So bad. Wants to fuck her senseless, until her thin lips scream out a perfect 'o'.

His cock is poking against her firm, flat stomach hidden by unnecessary _clothes_. Just as he's about to lift her tiny little skirt, hands stronger than he realizes are stopping him, and what the _fuck?_

"Grimmjow, wait."

This again. This barrier the orange hair girl is putting up to stop him. And he's damn tired of it. Almost a year, eight months, and they hadn't fucked. Kissing and touching, and her pretty mouth wrapped around him, snug and skilled, enough to make him come, but _never_ enough.

He growls, barring his teeth down on her jaw. "Why?" Even in the darkness of his room, he can make up her soft brown eyes, scrunched up in… _fear? _Grimmjow sighs, letting the fabric fall back against her bare thigh. "Ichigo, are ya afraid of me?"

There is only a little guilt when he sees her frown, pearly white teeth jutting out to clamp on her bottom lip. A habit he fucking hates.

Her body is all he can ever think about, because he's never seen it. Her long legs stretched wide on their bed, or her broad, bony shoulder, but not much else. She's slim, but tall for a girl, something that immediately attracted him. She was awkward in her own skin when he met her, and nearly fell on him as they passed on the sidewalk one sunny, fateful day. Her feet were shoved uncomfortably in heels, leaving her just half an inch shorter than him, but he caught her before her face met the ground.

Bright hair and a feisty personality. Just the way he liked his women. When they started dating, he didn't even want to fuck anyone else, he was simply too wrapped up in _her._

After a few months, they moved in together, but everything felt off. She was still so unsure of herself. But he never said anything, thinking she was just shy, hoping she'd loosen up and let him in.

Grimmjow is instantly knocked back to the present, her stammering voice cutting through his thoughts. "No! I'm not afraid." She scowls, and it went completely to his cock. He _loves_ her scowl. Her lips curve down, her brows furrowed, and he just knows she is stewing. He lurches up and kisses her, his hands sliding sensually down her sides to lift her up and on his lap, shifting back against the head board. She has a cute blush plastered on her freckled face, and he brings a finger to trace her lips, moaning when she took the tip between her lips.

"Then what the hell is the problem? You're not… virgin, are ya? 'Cuz if ya are, I'll be gentle."

Ichigo snickers against his shoulder, her long hand sneaking down his bare chest, lower and lower to take his dick out of his pants and curl her fingers around it. "Not a virgin. I just want this to be special, I guess."

Grimmjow snorts, rolling his eyes at her ridiculous behavior. He's not sure if he should bait her or try to placate her. "It will be, believe me. I'll fuck you nice n' slow, savior you. I'll make you come. Fuck," he hisses, groaning when she quickens the pace on his cock, thumb teasing the head like she's playing an instrument. Ichigo smiles at him, her back bowed so enticingly.

"I don't doubt it. But just give me more time."

And she snakes her body down, gripping his hips and replacing her hand with her mouth.

0

That night was another Grimmjow spent satisfied but empty. She finished him off and up against him to fall asleep, not bothered by his reciprocation. But he _wanted_ to touch her, slide his fingers inside her so damn bad he almost couldn't believe himself. What did _he_ care if a girl didn't want to get off?

It nagged him, though. That she didn't want his touch.

It's three days later when he comes home from work early to hear the shower running. He grins to himself, almost whistles. What a perfect opening. He walks slowly toward their bedroom, hoping to gain the upper hand, and opens the door to their bathroom. He usually respects her privacy, but his gut clenches with promise and everything he wants to do to her.

He's so wrapped up in his thoughts he almost doesn't hear the soft sniffle. The glass is fogged, nearly obscuring her from him, but he can make out her arms wrapped around her chest from behind, her completely _flat_ chest, and her long legs stretching down. Her slender frame quakes under the hot water, and he knows she's upset.

She's crying?

Instead of calling out her name, he simply presses back the glass of the shower, and steps in, disregarding the fact that his own clothes will get soaked.

"Ichigo?" he whispers gruffly, and she turns to him, wide eyes and afraid, a scream lodged in her throat.

It's then that he looks at her, her lithe, shaking body.

Her _male_ body.

Tbc…

No, this story is not just about sex, but it's got a lot to do with it. Ichigo's point of view is up next. There are probably questions to why Grimmjow couldn't figure out Ichigo's sex, but that will also be explained next chapter.

So, if you wanna read more, review?


	2. ii

Don't own Bleach, or Ichigo, or Grimmjow… wish I did, oh god.

Warning! This fic deals with transgender issues, yaoi, crossdressing, and basically everything a closed minded person should be afraid of. OH and oocness. Suck it.

Wooo, thanks for everyone's awesome feedback! I was happy people understood this fic. I really, really sympathize with individuals who go through this. It's maddening, not to be able to feel comfortable in your own skin. On another note, I want Ichigo to still be in character as much as he can. Obviously, the situation calls for tweaking him a little, but I hope he's still Ichigo to everyone.

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**A White Sky  
**  
0

Grimmjow stares at the quivering, naked body before his eyes. His fists are clenched tight by his side, the familiar licks of anger tickling his conscience. Distantly, the sound of the shower beating out cold water registers, but neither makes a move to turn it off. Ichigo must be freezing, he thinks, but shakes his head.

_Fuck this shit_.

He turns around to bolt, but a deceivingly strong hand reaches out and tugs on his sleeve. He almost can't stop the automatic flinch.

"Wait, Grimmjow. Can we… talk?"

The only thing that stops Grimmjow from spinning around and slamming his fist into the… _boy's_ face is the quiet hitch in Ichigo's voice.

"There's nothing to talk about," he growls, ripping his arm back and throwing open the bathroom door. It slams against the wall, knocked off its hinges.

He almost makes it to the front door before arms wrap around his waist, stopping him.

"You've been lying to me."

The words are raw, furious.

Grimmjow's jaw tightens, his head bowing down. "Eight months, and they meant shit to you. You ever think I ain't gay? That I don't wanna kiss or fuck a man? This is so fucked, Ichigo."

Ichigo hisses, tightening his hold, and Grimmjow has no idea why he's still here, still letting Ichigo keep him here in this lie.

"I'm sorry, I'm so _sorry_. I never wanted to lie to you, I fucking love you. But, this is who I am, and I was afraid if I told you you'd _leave_ and I know I should have said something to you when we met, but I just, I didn't…"

"You were _selfish_," Grimmjow snarls, finally pushing the smaller man away, turning around to glare down at him. He swallows thickly at the hurt, aching expression in those brown eyes he falls in, every damn time, male or female. "Was it easy _Ichigo,_ to lie to me every day? Does your family know? Did they let you lie to me, too?

Ichigo doesn't say anything for a full minute, before finally sighing. "They weren't lying to you. They, they were under the impression that I had told you."

Grimmjow snorts, crossing his thick arms across his chest, annoyed at Ichigo's state of undress. "If we're going to fuckin' talk, at least put something on."

Brown eyes widen in delighted surprise and Grimmjow growls when his own heart skips a beat. "You'll hear me out, then?" Ichigo whispers, and it's so damn pathetic that Grimmjow has to nod grudgingly.

"Yeah, I'll hear your excuses. But that's all. I'm not promising _shit._"

Just as quickly his(her?) eyes drop down to the floor, wet orange hair shaking in a stiff nod, water droplets flying. "I understand."

Grimmjow watches as Ichigo mechanically walks back into what was formerly _their_ room, and takes a patient seat on the couch, grabbing the remote from the coffee table and turning on the television. He isn't watching, just using it as filler for the silence and his stupid thoughts.

It's five minutes later when he hears shuffling. He looks up, shocked to see Ichigo dressed in his(her) usual attire. A short skirt and a tight, black shirt barely covering pale flesh.

"Why are ya still dressing like that?" Grimmjow mutters, narrowing his eyes when Ichigo sits next to him quietly.

"This is who I am," Ichigo stresses, his hand reaching out only to grasp air as Grimmjow flinches away. Ichigo just sighs, deciding to elaborate. "I'm in the process of transitioning into a female. It takes a while –I, I'm seeing a psychiatrist so that I can get the surgery… but I'm also trying to save my money, it's really ex –"

Grimmjow holds up a hand, cutting the other off with an authoritative wave. He sits there stubbornly, glaring at Ichigo out of the corner of his eye.

"So, you're waiting for surgery. Were you gonna wait until you got your dick snipped before you let me fuck you?" Grimmjow giggles harshly though it lacks humor, slapping his leg with the remote still clasped in his hand. "That's fuckin' rich. You were gonna try and _trick_ me."

"No," Ichigo immediately hisses, a low growl lodged in that slim throat. Grimmjow only just resists the overwhelming urge to bite it. He can't because he's trying to be _pissed_ but it's so damn hard with that androgynous face twisting up in anguish at his cruel words. "I was going to tell you, I swear! Why… why won't you believe me?"

Grimmjow isn't stupid. What Ichigo means is _why won't you accept me?_

"Ichigo, why the fuck would you think I'd believe anything you say? You've been lying to me for eight months, the entirety of our relationship. You think I'm being a dick in this situation? Or do you think you have a right to be angry? Well?" Grimmjow growls,

Ichigo pushes herself up from the seat, slapping her hand on her chest angrily, right next to her heart. "I'm not saying you shouldn't be angry! I'm just saying this is the only thing I kept from you! I know…. I fucking know you can't trust me, but… if we're going to talk about this; you need to stop throwing that in my face! I want to explain but you're just fuckin' pissing me off."

And Grimmjow swallows, because he's _hard_.

He has always loved Ichigo's angry side, the passion that simply oozes out. It's been such a turn on, that male or female he's deadly attracted. And that scares the shit out of him. He has to look away from her expression and calm himself, remind himself to think rationally and stop baiting her.

"Alright," Grimmjow concedes, earning a small nod from Ichigo. "Sit your ass back down and explain. I'll shut up." Before Grimmjow can stop it, Ichigo grabs his hand in her own, and it is only then that Grimmjow really stares at her hands, clasped around his so tightly. They are long and slender, but callused. Ambiguous.

Ichigo takes a deep breath, her full bottom lip tucked out in a pout she probably doesn't realize she's doing it. "Ever since I was little, I never felt right. I'd look at Karin or Yuzu and think I should look like that. But I didn't. I wasn't exactly girly, but I didn't _feel_ like a b – boy…"

"And then, when I got older, I just got ridiculed. For my hair, for the way I acted, what people knew I was. School was a nightmare. I'd walk down the halls and it was like everyone was staring. I was twelve when I was tired of acting like someone I wasn't. I was interested in art, so I joined the art club and made a few friends. It helped me a lot, th- they helped me." Ichigo smiles, wide and genuine like she's lost in a different world and Grimmjow can only watch, absorbed, as a soft blush spreads over a freckled face.

He bites his tongue, suddenly angry, because he knows who Ichigo is talking about, and they _knew_.

Chad, Ishida, Shinji, Rukia, Orihime, Renji.

Grimmjow doesn't say anything, only glares.

Ichigo catches it and shakes her head, her hand squeezing his harder in some caricature of comfort. "As I got older, they all encouraged me to be myself, and taught me it didn't matter what I looked like on the outside, it was how I felt on the inside. And then for my sixteenth birthday, Orihime and Rukia took, ah, t-took me sh-shopping and –" Ichigo lets out a shuddering breath, her bangs obscuring her eyes from Grimmjow, but he knows she's stifling unwanted tears. "I've never felt so whole. Never. That was the moment that I knew I had to change on the outside, I had to get rid of what was making me miserable."

Grimmjow sighs, stretching out his long legs on the coffee table, snorting at the disapproving look crossing Ichigo's deadly serious face. "So, you're taking hormone treatments and saving money right? Is that what you're gonna say?"

Ichigo nods, but doesn't supply anything else to the conversation, and Grimmjow continues without her consent anyway. "Tch, figures. You're always broke, ya don't wanna sleep close to me, don't wanna _fuck_ me. I shoulda figured somethin' was up. But not _this_."

"So…" Ichigo looks down, "Where do we stand?" She doesn't wince at Grimmjow's hard bark of laughter, just steels herself.

"I honestly can't tell you, Ichigo. I'd like to say fuck you, I'm out of here, but I can't, because despite everything, godfuckingdamnit, you've gotten to me. You're in my damn head."

Grimmjow stirs his thoughts around, trying to articulate. Ichigo bites her lip; finger's toying with the hem on her skirt in nervous anticipation. "What do you want me to do? Wh-what do you need, now? Can we salvage this?"

_I need a girlfriend_. Grimmjow stands abruptly, stretching out his arms and cracking his knuckles, knowing Ichigo despises the sound with a passion. He only chuckles at her disgruntled stare.

She grinds her teeth, glaring at him. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you so… so goddamn _jovial_, like this is some joke? Is that what I am to you now, you bastard! A fucking joke?"

Grimmjow realizes he's been a little strange during this situation, and furrows his brows, waving a hand in the air. "To be honest, I'm still in shock, trying to take this in. I need time. I'm gonna pack some shit and clear my head and stay at Stark's. When I figure it out, I'll call ya."

Ichigo gasps like he had just slapped her in the face with a fish.

She had prepared for his reaction, but it still _hurts._ She nods, standing up and storming off to what was once their bedroom. "I'll, I'll he-help you," she growls, slightly pleased that she doesn't breakdown. He follows her silently, and it's the quietest he's ever been in a span of five minutes. The silence frightens her.

She grabs his tooth brush and he throws his essential clothes in a bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

The terrible silence stalks their heels until he reaches the front door.

Ichigo holds a breath, thinking he's never coming back and why the hell would he? All she did was lie. A big lie that wrapped around her like some kind of security blanket.

"Well, er… goodbye," he mumbles.

She nods. And then he does leave.

And she punches the wall.

0

It's three days.

Only three that he begins to miss her.

His finger's itch, always wanting to reach out in the middle of the night and tug on her short, orange spikes affectionately to wake her. The action annoys her, and whatever annoys her gives him a strange sense of please. But when he does it now, he just feels air.

He's at Stark's, on his uncomfortable, ratty couch that holds no warmth. It's three in the morning, sleep eludes him, and he just wants to go home. He's thought about everything from the dick between her legs to the edges of her mouth, turned up in a brilliant smile or frowning in that damn scowl he's come to realize is more important than he thought.

The next day he does it all over again and says fuck it.

He's Grimmjow, he can do what he wants.

And what he wants is still her.

0

Ichigo could remember very clearly the day when Isshin had accepted his decision fully.

His father had always supported him, through any and every problem he had ever had. When he was little, alone and angry at his mother's suicide, Isshin had been there, coaxing him out of his shell with laughter and mock fighting. It taught Ichigo to brush off the words and hurt, suck it up and live for tomorrow.

When he had told Isshin, calmly at dinner one night, that he wasn't a boy, wasn't meant to feel like this, his father had stared at him, his fork poised beside his mouth with a piece of chicken falling back onto his plate.

He had listened to Ichigo, all of them did. His beloved sisters, Yuzu and Karin. They didn't interrupt.

When he was done spilling himself, what was inside, no one spoke.

Three sets of eyes stared him down, until finally the quiet evaporated with a sudden squeal. Ichigo had turned his head sharply at his youngest sister. Yuzu was crying, just a little. Her tears slipping down her chin and onto her pastel pink shirt. "Ichi-nii! Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

Ichigo had gaped. Shocked. Beyond.

Karin was next, her dark eyes solemn and wise. Well past her years. "Yeah, Yuzu's right. You should have said something sooner. You… didn't have to go through this alone."

Ichigo sighed then, remembering his heart positively _beating _against its prison when he glanced over to Isshin_. _His father simply nodded, abruptly standing and walking over to his only son, crouching down to pull him in a crushing hug. No yelling, no obnoxious chants.

It was a week later that found Ichigo going down the steps, clad in what reflected her on the inside, _finally_. She heard a loud voice, her ridiculous father on the phone in the kitchen, squawking and throwing his arms out. She had to go there anyway to grab her lunch for school, so she didn't consider it eavesdropping when she heard pieces of his conversation.

"Urahara, I have_ three daughters._ Yes, Urahara, I'm not crazy. What! Why you –"

She blinked, ignoring the angry mock fight her father continued with her equally insane uncle.

Her crazy father, warm and open, accepted her. Completely.

And she cried, because it was all she ever wanted.

0

Ichigo wakes up alone, cold and shivering like every recent morning without him, because he was like a damn furnace, heat rolling off him in waves to keep her warm.

There are knocks, more of a bang, coming from the front door. She can only snarl in rage, throwing back the covers and sitting up, one of his shirts riding up on her bare thigh but she's can't bring herself to really care at this hour.

She slowly makes her way to the door, muttering every curse word she can think of, and being around him has taught her _a lot_. The clock on the digital radio in the kitchen reads seven_. A.M_.

The banging starts again, but Ichigo rips open the door, ready to lay it into the asshole, until she realizes it's _her_ asshole staring at her, shit-eating grin stretching his lips wide.

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AN2: So I stayed up to work on this when I should have slept or worked on my Spanish. And damn if this fic isn't hard to write. I hope everyone enjoyed it, angsty and weird as it was.

But I love you all. So you all should review, yes? It really helps speed up the writing process, knowing people like what you're doing, ya know?

And there's, ahhhh, one more chapter. Maybe two. Probably one. I really need to go to sleep right now.

One last thing, I have another GrimmIchi fic. It's highschool, so less awesome, but if interested, check it out! :3


	3. iii

Don't own Bleach, or Ichigo, or Grimmjow… wish I did, oh god.

Warning! This fic deals with transgender issues, yaoi, crossdressing, and basically everything a closed minded person should be afraid of. OH and oocness. Suck it.

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**A White Sky**

0

Ichigo smiles, though she is slightly confused and even exasperated. There is a blue haired man on her porch, staring holes through her and she can do nothing but chuckle in nervous stupidity and let him inside.

They don't make it to the bedroom before he pins her to the kitchen floor like their altercation never happened.

0

The first time Ichigo fucks as a boy is at fifteen and is with one of her best friends. It is not entirely on purpose. It is not entirely an accident.

Renji is careful and a little too nice. The entire situation is not unpleasant but at the same time is very wrong. He touches her legs and her face and sticks a finger in her ass and it's _wrong_.

The kisses are messy, all over, and Ichigo feels so out of body it's not funny. She is determined to enjoy the sex, but can't and in the end, Renji comes but she doesn't and that's okay, too.

Renji apologizes about twenty six times over the next few weeks, but Ichigo smiles and shrugs him off.

Renji is gay. Ichigo is not.

She is not not _not _gay. She is not a..._boy._

She is not a boy.

0

Ichigo gasps, shuddering under Grimmjow's skillful touch.

She lets him curve his hands under her clothes and touch skin that should be softer, run his fingertips over the firm planes of her stomach and the boniness of her thighs. She lets Grimmjow take off her shirt, stare at her flat chest, and tells herself not to flinch away, not to leave.

Grimmjow stares down at her body that is hard and angled and not quite right –not yet, and he looks like he is worshipping her with his crazy blue eyes that Ichigo loves more than anything, more than her fucked up existence. Butterfly wing fingers trail over her thigh and under her clothes and _there_. She moans and arches up into him, completely at his mercy.

He throws all the gentleness away and wraps his hand around her, pumping up and down and squeezes, and Ichigo can do nothing but writhe helplessly. Anyone else and she wouldn't be this open, _exposed_. It's liberating, to let Grimmjow really feel her and touch her, all of her. His lips are everywhere, a hot tongue trailing down from her neck to her chest, wrapping around a peaked nipple.

"Ichigo," he whispers, though it's throaty and raw sounding, so sexy to her ears. She lets her fingers wander into his soft hair.

Ichigo nods, already understanding his silent question. She will let him have her before she is complete. She wants him, like she has since that fateful day they met, but was too shy to ask, too afraid to spill her secrets to lose him.

There is a ruffling sound in the bedside drawer. Time begins to speed up when his hands are spreading her open, his clammy cheek pressed tight against her leg as he lifts it to expose her layers. Grimmjow gives her a devious grin, exciting her and terrifying her at the same time.

Ichigo hisses when the first slick finger touches her, sliding in to the knuckle and she wonders when Grimmjow has had time to research this, but the thought is thrown out of the window as he presses on something that makes her see the stars and the moon.

"God," she breathes out shakily, curling a fist in the pillow while he works in another finger, this one not quite so easy. The stretch is uncomfortable until he strikes that spot again, ripping out another moan from Ichigo's throat. "Grimm, stop teasing me."

He chuckles, sending chills straight up her spine. "Calm down Ichi, I'm almost done. Don't wanna hurt ya."

Three fingers are now inside her, stretching and moving, thrusting in fast and going out achingly slow. Ichigo whines low, growling because she knows he's purposely making her into a pile of glue and it's annoying.

Finally he takes them out, reaching for the tube of lubricant and slicking his swelled cock generously, groaning with the effort. She spreads her legs to accommodate him as he crawls up her body, taking her mouth roughly. The kiss doesn't last long before he hooks her legs over his arms and presses against her body, the head slipping in.

Ichigo winces. It hurts just like the first time, but this is _Grimmjow_. She looks up at his sweaty face, brows furrowed in concentration and utter adoration. She has never loved him more.

She shuts her mind down and just _feels_.

It's the best orgasm she's ever had.

0

The first time Grimmjow fucks someone is at fourteen, an ashy blonde named Halibel.

She's quiet and tight and boring and Grimmjow comes too quick. It should be embarrassing but he just doesn't care.

Every encounter after is empty and meaningless until he meets Ichigo. She is what he wants. What he has been searching for, but has never found. She is headstrong and boyish, bright orange hair that is never tamed sticking up all over the place. She is different.

She punches him in the face on their second date. Not a slap or a love tap. She rears her fist back and promptly smashes him in the nose with enough force to knock him down.

He knew in that moment he would never leave her. She would have to unglue him from her life and throw him away, because he had resolved himself.

So a little lie that is really a big lie can't stop him. Ichigo's crazy father, Grimmjow's stupid friends, no one, can stop him from loving her.

He looks over at Ichigo's silky orange hair decorating their pillows. He grins in the darkness, reaching out to run his hands through the thick tresses. Ichigo can sleep through the apocalypse, so waking her is not a concern. Tomorrow will change them, for the better. It will change Ichigo's confidence, and they have sex, how they do things. Grimmjow is only a little bit afraid, but not for himself. He knows she is nervous and excited and even scared. Surgery is surgery and no one is completely at ease going through it. Grimmjow will be there, though, and wait for as long as it takes.

Grimmjow watches Ichigo examine herself in the body length mirror on the wall, her new body naked and so different from what he has been accustomed to. She's beautiful, soft curves yet still all bones and lithe muscle. Her breasts are appropriate for her size and as he trails his eyes down he admires the distinct lack of her cock, a vagina clearly outlined. Ichigo seems to approve, critical eyes scanning over every inch of skin that is hers. The scars have faded with time, leaving only faint hints.

"I finally feel like I should," she smiles at him, soft and liberated. Grimmjow moves up behind her to encase her in his arms, lips just brushing the dust of freckles on her bare shoulder. He inhales the clean scent of avocados and grins at their reflection in the mirror.

"You've always been perfect to me."

0

It is two years later. They lay in bed curled tight around each other. Grimmjow's hand is on her stomach, softly rubbing, back and forth and forth and back, like there is something inside that is precious. But there isn't. Ichigo cannot bear children.

Instead, they're adopting.

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This is probably the end. Time is scarce. Bleh. Sorry it took so long, hopefully it was worth the wait. Thanks for the reviews, everyone. In the future I might add a small epilogue, but who knows when that will be out. Happy holidays!


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